Hidden Objectives
by Jessica M. Moonflower
Summary: [ON HOLD]Murder, love, and deception changes Serenity Worthing's life forever. While concealing her secret love affair with a servant boy from her aunt, Serenity comes to realize that there is more to her mother's death than what she was led to believe.


Hidden Objectives

Prologue

By: Jessica M. Moonflower

E-mail: PG-13

Timeline: Alternate Universe

Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon, but I do have my own Mamo-chan clone! That's the next best thing, right Mamo-chan? Mamo-chan clone nods head and sweatdrops

Summary: "The day her mother was killed was the day Serenity's whole life had shattered."

Murder, love, and deception changes Serenity Worthing's life forever. While concealing her secret love affair with a servant boy from her aunt, Serenity comes to realize that there is more to her mother's death than what she was led to believe.

AN's: I hadn't anticipated on writing another fanfic, but I felt the need to write this one before I get back to revising my other two long neglected multi-part fics. I hope you enjoy this fic and please review or e-mail. Let me know if this fic is worth continuing. Special thanks goes to my editor, Eimar. Don't know what I'd do without you.

"A heart that loves is always young."

-Greek Proverb

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"Are we almost there, Maurice?"

"Afraid not, Your Grace. We shall arrive at the manor before the storm hits."

"We needn't hurry, Maurice. I only wish to arrive there safely."

A slender hand gently pulled back the crimson curtains of the rattling carriage. The soft material gently caressed her cheeks like the hand of a lover would. Anxious gray blue eyes glanced up at the darkening skies. The sound of thunder rumbled in the distance, and a harsh wind brushed up against the naked branches of tall oak trees. A loud caw from a black crow pierced the blanket of silence covering every inch of the forest floor. The sound made a deafening echo, which was unpleasant to the ears. Flocks of birds, which were resting on their perches, were ruffled by the sound, and leapt off the branches. Their wings flapped against the wind and went to scour a different area for a much quieter location.

The Duchess Alexandria of Castleton let the curtains fall back into place and sighed heavily. She rested her back against the leather interior seat and closed her eyes. The dreary weather and long trip home had left her restless for the past two days. She found herself unable to fight off the urge to sleep and finally succumbed to the seductive calls of the Sand Man.

She dreamed of a familiar massive white house with a rose vine trellis climbing up the wall. The roses were in full bloom and the air was sweetly scented with their perfume. Crystal drops of water clung to each petal and shined like diamonds in the sunlight. She inhaled the air and sighed with content. She felt protected and safe here, a feeling she always felt when she was home. She cautiously ran her fingertips over each petal as if her touch would mar the beauty and flawlessness of the flower she beheld.

Each rose was perfect down to the very thorn on its stem. She often wondered as a little girl if the roses were jewels from heaven that had happened to have fallen by mistake on earth, and taken root on the very soil she walked on. If human beings were sinful and imperfect creatures by nature then certainly the rose did not belong here. It needed to grow where perfection and purity resided, where the world would be unable to harm or abuse such beauty. That place was with God and his angels.

The Duchess shook her head and laughed at her childish way of thinking. For a refine and grown young woman, she could be a bit naïve at times. Her husband had always said that her innocence was an attractive feature of hers. However, she had learned to hide such innocence from the cultured and very wealthy aristocrats she mingled with daily.

Such people would mistake her innocence as foolishness and a lack of maturity. The world simply had no more room for childish hopes and endless daydreaming. It was a phrase most children would soon come to know and learn, as they got older. An adult had to be practical and give up on such frivolities that would contribute nothing to their daily life and obligations.

She never did agree to such notions in her entire life. She cherished the times when she could just sit back and dream as much as she wanted without anyone telling her she couldn't. Dreams were the best thing a human being could possess. Without them, what else could a person cling to?

Her hand slipped away from the precious flower as her nose picked up on another pleasant smell floating in the air. She had already figured out that the scent was coming from a different flower, but wasn't sure how to describe the scent. It was certainly much more milder, and not as strong or distinct as the roses.

Her legs carefully moved of their own accord, her footsteps soft against the dry grass underneath her bare feet. Her curiosity overwhelmed and excited her. The scent was trying to lead her somewhere, and her senses were urging her to trust and follow it.

The Duchess walked further and further away from the house and the roses until it became a tiny speck on the land. All she could focus on was the tantalizing scent. She was eager to find out what sort of flower it was and her determination won out over her rationality. With each step she took, she got closer and closer to finding her mystery flower. It no longer competed with the other flowers, as it became the only scent lingering in the air.

She stepped through a stone archway of coiling ivy leaves, which clung to the walls and filled every available crevice it could find. A long vine of semi-triangular leaves dangled above her head and she gently pushed it away. She passed a small pond filled with green lily pads and pink cup like flowers floating on the water's surface. The blue sky and fluffy white clouds were reflected off the glassy surface, and was occasionally disturbed by light winds sweeping across the water to create ripples.

A towering and blossoming tree came into view and her feet stopped just inches away from it. She was speechless. The cherry blossom tree was by far the most outstanding gem in the garden. Pink and white flowers were nestled between a crown of leaves and branches, and a gentle summer breeze lifted the petals off of each flower to create a rain of pink and white.

The Duchess stretched out her palm to catch one of the petals. She examined the unique curves and lines of the petal before releasing it and letting it float with the rest of the petals. Happiness bubbled up inside her stomach and she began to twirl and dance under the raining petals. It felt like she was reliving her childhood days all over again.

Tiny bell like laughter caught her attention and she immediately stopped dancing. Curious, she stepped closer to the tree and peaked around it. Her gaze was transfixed on a little girl sitting on a blanket under the shady tree. A doll sat on the opposite side of the blanket with a tiny tea set spread out before them. The little girl giggled again, her butter blond curls bouncing against her porcelain skin. A rose painted teapot was encased in her chubby little hand and poured imaginary tea into the teacups.

She couldn't really hear what the little girl was saying, but by observing her manners and her attire, which consisted of a hat that was one size too big for her head and a long string of pearls adorning her short neck and ending just above her waist, one could only guess that she was trying to act the part of a regal young lady. Her doll acted like a close companion she hadn't seen in years.

Energy and life radiated off this girl. She laughed and smiled as if she didn't have a care in the world. She was untainted by outside corruptions, and freely indulged her imagination with thoughts of princes, unicorns, and fairies. The Duchess couldn't help but smile at the girl. She was a mirror image of herself when she was about her age.

The little girl's head turned slightly and let out a small gasp of surprise when she saw the Duchess staring intently at her.

The Duchess' heart fluttered, and a surge of love and affection took over her emotions as she looked into the girl's large sapphire blue eyes for the first time.

The girl's gaze was filled with tears of joy and recognition. She spread her arms wide open to receive the Duchess in a hug with a huge smile on her angelic face. But before the Duchess could take a step closer to embrace her, she was jolted out of her dream by the violent rocking of her carriage.

Her body jerked to an upright position and was fully awake and alert. Her gaze dashed up and down the small compartment with a wild-eyed unease. The tense nervousness she felt constricted the back of her muscles to a point where it became hard to relax and sit still. The carriage floor was unsteady, and her nails dug deep into her seat in a vice like grip. She stuck her head out the window and called to her driver.

"What has happened, Maurice?"

"My apologies, Your Grace. We've hit rocky roads," he called back. He concentrated on steadying the black stallions and keeping them from increasing their speed. Their long black manes flapped against the wind and their powerful hooves thundered against the dirt road. "I shall do my best to get us back on smoother ground," he added after a moment's pause.

"Do not vex yourself over it. I feared far worse than that."

Her lips were set in a tight thin line. Her mind was a raging storm of chaos. The growing anxiety in her heart clashed and collided with the rest of her troubled feelings. She swallowed hard, her sweaty palms twisting the lacy blue handkerchief in her pale hands.

Fear tugged the back corners of her mind and hovered threateningly behind her. She didn't know where it was coming from or what had triggered it, but her instincts told her to stay on her guard. She had been jittery ever since she left the governor's home, and could not find a way to keep herself calm.

She tried reading a book earlier, but did not go pass the first page. Her mind would always drift back to the foreboding sensation plaguing the dark recesses of her mind and heart. The small black words printed across the page were all a bunch of nonsensical piece of rubbish to her. After reading the same sentence repeatedly for the past half hour, she grew frustrated and slammed the book shut.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence and deep thought. She tried to sort out her feelings and make sense of them. It bothered her to know that something was out there and could very well obstruct her chances of ever getting back home.

She shook her head. She shouldn't be thinking this way. It must be her overactive imagination running away with her again. A combination of her fatigue and lack of rest wasn't letting her mind think straight—that was all.

A little voice inside her head laughed at her stupidity. _You know the reason why you're feeling this way and yet you refuse to acknowledge it_, the tiny voice sneered. _Know what?_ she thought. What did she know? She tried seeking out the voice in her head for more answers, but it remained silent, refusing to give away more than it already had.

Her body shook violently and her hands tightened into fists on her lap until her knuckles turned white and the veins underneath her skin popped up. She crushed the handkerchief in her hands, the sweat dampening the fine silk material.

She didn't know whether she wanted to sob or scream! Why did the answer she wanted always elude her? Her own mind was against her and she could feel herself on the brink of insanity.

Her head fell against the side of the carriage, her features worn down by exhaustion and paranoia. She was incapable of thinking sensibly anymore. She was ready to admit defeat like any other person who had been beaten and broken down by an unforeseeable obstacle.

Maurice glanced back at the open window. The rich velvet curtains billowed against the breeze in waves of fabric. His pale green eyes could vaguely make out the form of his mistress covered in a cloak of darkness and shadows. He noted the distressed and tired expression on her face. He frowned. This was not good. Not good at all.

He had been worrying over her for the last couple of days. She was so anxious to get started on their journey home that she almost took it upon herself to drive the carriage back to the manor. A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he recalled that day. The Duchess had made such a huge fuss that the governor's wife had to calm her down and talk some sense back into her.

Now the troubled expression on her face did not sit well with Maurice. Her youthful face looked like it had aged over night, no longer looking like the thirty-year old woman she was. It was quite unusual to see the normally serene Duchess have something shake her to the very core.

"Is something the matter, Your Grace? Are you well?" his concerned voice broke through her thoughts.

She pushed aside her feelings and forced a smile on her dry lips. She leaned her head out the window and looked at Maurice with kind eyes to reassure him.

"'Tis nothing, Maurice. You mustn't worry yourself over me. I'm feeling quite well, thank you."

He gave her a slight nod and focused his attention back on the road. He was still not satisfied with her answer. He saw it in her eyes. She had a haunted look hidden within their silvery depths. Whatever was troubling her, it certainly had gotten the best of her.

The shaking and rattling of the carriage had subsided little by little. The drive became smoother and less rough with the horses' trots light against the ground and back to a regular pace. There were the occasional bumps on the road, but nothing too alarming to stir up any excitement.

The smooth ride did less to calm the Duchess' nerves, and she prayed to God for a safe trip home. She glanced down at her diary sitting on her lap, and opened it to a section where a dried up and crushed ring of tiny daisies sat. She traced a delicate finger over the crinkled white petals and smiled. Her darling little girl. Oh, how she had missed her!

The Duchess remembered the day her sweet angel gave her the tiny daisy bracelet as if it were only yesterday. She had made it for her to take on her travels. _'To keep me close to your heart'_, her daughter had said with a bright smile on her cherubic face.

She wiped a stray tear that made its way down her cheek. She closed the diary and clutched it tightly against her chest. Her daughter was her life. She was all she had left in this world ever since her beloved husband passed away. Every time her daughter looked or smiled at her, her husband was there. She had his spirit, warmth, and eyes. It made the pain of losing him hurt a little less whenever she held her in her arms.

"My precious Serenity. Soon, very soon dearest, we'll be together again," she whispered her solemn vow to the darkness.

Her whole body jerked forward until she felt the carriage come to an abrupt stop. She straightened the hat on her head and laid her diary on the seat next to her.

Why had they stopped? Surely they weren't back at the manor already. She took a peak outside and saw that their surroundings were still completely covered with trees. The feelings she had forgotten for the time being rushed back to her full force. A lump was rising in her throat and her stomach was tied in knots. What was going on? Did something happen?

"Maurice, why have we stopped?" she anxiously called out to him. She sat and waited for a response, but it did not come like it always did. Silence was her only reply. She felt her heart race and beads of sweat break out across her forehead. Something was terribly wrong. Why wasn't he answering her?

"Maurice? Maurice, is something the matter?"

Her voice grew more frantic and urgent than before. She tried calling out his name several times and still did not hear his voice. She laid her gloved hand on the door handle, ready to exit the carriage to get to the bottom of this, when the door suddenly swung open.

She choked back a yelp of surprise and steadied herself on her seat. Her eyes came in contact with a pair of black boots, which was caked in mud and loose blades of grass. She gulped, a sense of dread taking over her entire body. Her stomach lurched uneasily as her eyes slowly traveled up from his raggedly dressed form to a pair of cold and intimidating eyes. The man's crooked grin sent chills up her spine and made her skin crawl. His breath stank with the unpleasant odor of alcohol mixed with stale cigarettes. She wanted to vomit from the nauseating smell.

"Look what we 'ave 'ere. I think our luck iz 'bout ta change, boys. We picked tha carriage of tha fair Duchess ta raid today." His dark beady eyes roamed over her slim figure and graceful features hungrily and appreciatively. A wicked smirk made its way across his face and flashed her his yellow and cracked teeth.

She cringed and shuddered at the ghastly sight. It made her blood run cold and still the beating in her heart. His manners were repulsive. He saw her as a plaything he could throw around and abuse until her usefulness had finally worn out. She didn't dare think of what this scoundrel had in mind for her. It'd be too dreadful and sickening to form into images. She looked over his shoulder and saw three other men behind him holding onto an unconscious middle-aged man.

"Maurice!" she cried. She covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide with horror. The sight of her disheveled and unconscious driver slumped and crouched forward on the ground tore her up inside. Despite her status in high society, she still cared for her servants as if they were a part of her family. She never really liked to label them as 'servants' even though she grew up with them all her life.

His face and clothes were covered in dirt and the slight tears on his shirt were evidence of a struggle that took place between him and the men who held him captive. All four men laughed, and the Duchess' anger had reached its peak.

Those monsters! How dare they laugh at their misfortunes! Have they no heart at all? She bit back the urge to tell them off. Now was not the time to show off her quick wit and sharp tongue. It certainly would not impress these bandits very much, and she did not want to give them a reason to invoke harm on them just yet either. Her main concern was to see if Maurice was all right.

She tried to push her way pass the man standing in her way to get to Maurice, but he seized her by the shoulders and gripped them tightly. She winced at the searing pain shooting through her skin. Her shoulders were on fire and burned under the rough mishandling of her captor, no doubt the mastermind and leader behind the raid.

He looked down at her with empty and emotionless eyes, almost akin to disgust, before hurling her down on the ground next to the carriage. She groaned and rubbed her shoulders. Her eyes narrowed and glared at her captors with unmasked contempt. The leader pasted on a fake smile and bowed dramatically at her feet.

"Oh my! 'ave I hurt ye, Yer Grace?" he inquired with mock concern. His harebrained lackeys snickered behind her, thoroughly enjoying their leader's poor pathetic excuse for a joke. "I would stend my 'umblest apologies, but I was nevah taut etiquette as a boy I'm 'fraid." He shrugged it off as unimportant and turned his gaze towards a man, who was slightly bigger in size and strength than the other two men with him. He pointed a finger directly at the muscular man and signaled for him to step out of the group, ready to execute his commands.

"George, tie 'em up near tha tree and watch 'em. I don't want 'em out of yer sight, ye hear? Joey and Mike will come wit me ta raid tha carriage. Make sure ta take anything ye tink would fetch a price." He barked the last order to the other two men before kneeling down and gripping the Duchess' face with his coarse and soiled hand. He forced her head up to look at him and traced a lazy finger over her cheek. She trembled at his touch while he found amusement in her reaction.

"Maybe later, I can personally show ye how we bandits like ta 'ave a good time. Would ye like tha, Yer Grace?"

She spit into his cocky and self-satisfied face, no longer willing to restrain herself from the repulsion she felt whenever he looked at her. His face grew dark and menacing and raised a large hand to strike her. The impact from the blow she received was so powerful that it knocked her back onto the ground. She pressed a gentle hand over her cheek, where a red mark had already stained her flawless white skin. She watched the leader wipe the spit off his face with a rag from his pocket and turned back to the task at hand with the other two men following closely behind.

The larger man who was called 'George', dragged her up to her feet along with Maurice and threw them down to the tree his leader pointed to earlier. He took out some thick brown rope from a bag at his side and proceeded to tie the two together back to back. After he secured the rope on their ankles, he stood up and took his stand next to the tree with his bulky arms folded over his chest. He threw one warning glance at the Duchess and Maurice, which said, _'You better not try anything funny'_, then looked straight ahead.

The Duchess threw her head back against the bark of the tree as a few tears escaped from her eyes. What were they going to do? Her and Maurice were as good as dead if they didn't think of a way to get out of here. And what about Serenity? She couldn't die knowing that Serenity would not be well cared for. She struggled against her restraints. They had to get out of here!

A low groan was heard from behind her followed by some slight movement. She gasped and turned as far as her restraints would allow, catching a better look at Maurice.

"Maurice?" she whispered, careful not to alert their guard. "Are you all right? Answer me."

"Your Grace?" he murmured, his voice hoarse and weak. His breath came out shallow making it difficult to breathe with the sharp pain throbbing against his chest. He tried to move but found his hands and feet bound together. Realization dawned on him and he struggled frantically in his place. The Duchess silenced him and tilted her head upwards to point out the man beside them. Maurice understood and lowered his voice to a whisper.

"Are you all right, Your Grace? Have they harmed you?"

She shook her head. "I'm quite well, Maurice, but now is not the time to worry yourself over me." She glanced back at the carriage. The bandits were absorbed in their work, greedily stuffing their brown sacks with jewelry, money, antique furniture, and other expensive items.

A tall and skinny man had come across a trunk full of her finest gowns and shoes. He waved the other two over and fingered each piece with their dirty hands. They were talking amongst themselves and made several gestures to her clothes. She came to the conclusion that they were debating on whether or not to take the gowns or leave them behind.

She then caught a glimpse of George, who was nodding off against the tree. His head bobbed up and down slowly, his eyes fluttering close then opening again. He was struggling against himself to stay awake, but sleep won out in the end. He made a comfortable spot for his head on the tree and fell into a deep sleep. His snores came out low and soft, which indicated that he would not stir unless someone or something disturbed him.

The Duchess saw it as their golden opportunity to escape. As long as George was asleep and was unable to keep a watchful eye on them, they would be able to make a quick escape! She wasn't worried about the other three men since they were still busy arguing and debating over the gowns to bother with them. There was only one problem with their escape plan—how do they break free of their restraints? They needed a knife or something sharp to cut the ropes loose. The Duchess' face fell. Without any kind of sharp object, the escape plan was hopeless and utterly useless.

Maurice sensed her sudden sadness from the heavy sigh she released. "What's the matter, Your Grace?"

"Oh, Maurice. Right now is a fine time to make a swift getaway, but we have nothing to cut the ropes loose." Her eyes were downcast, and would have buried her head in her hands if they weren't tied behind her back.

"On the contrary, Your Grace. You forget how well prepared I am for surprise situations such as these."

She furrowed her eyebrows. The confusion and suspense behind his words were making her eager with anticipation. He turned slightly to show her a small pocket knife hidden inside the long sleeve of his shirt. Her eyes were wide with astonishment. How did the bandits not know he had a knife when they were handling him earlier? She was about to ask when he shook his head.

"I cannot explain now." He unsheathed the knife from its hiding place and began to move the blade back and forth on the ropes. "Listen carefully, Your Grace. I shall provide a distraction for you while you grab one of those horses." He pointed to a cluster of horses resting just ahead of the carriage. Their reins were tied to a branch to keep them from running off. The Duchess nodded her agreement and continued to listen to the rest of his instructions. "Ride as far and as quickly away from this place as you can. My deepest regret is that I may not be able to accompany you home."

"What do you mea—"

"Please," he cut her off, the urgency in his tone pleading with her not to argue. "I beg of you to follow my instructions. My only wish is to have you and Lady Worthing reunited once more."

"I promise," she replied. Her voice was shaky and filled with great sorrow. She knew what he was going to do. It pained her to let him do it, but now was not the time to argue. She hoped he knew how grateful she really was to have him risk his life for her.

The knife sawed through the last pieces of rope binding their hands. The broken strips slipped off their hands and fell soundlessly on the ground. He quickly untied the rope around his ankles before moving to undo the Duchess'.

The Duchess and Maurice froze when they heard a sound coming from George. They looked up to see him mumble something under his breath while moving his head to the other side of the tree. His face was no longer facing in their direction, and they breathed a sigh of relief. They had to act quickly if they wanted their plan to run smoothly.

Maurice directed the Duchess to move from one tree to another in order to reach the horses unnoticed. After making sure the other men did not suspect anything suspicious, she quickly moved carefully and quietly to the first tree. She caught her breath and counted from one to three before moving to the next one. She repeated the same procedure until she finally reached the tree where the horses were.

She glanced back at Maurice and gave him a slight nod, which was a signal to him that she made it. He smiled sadly at her and mouthed a 'Farewell' to her. He looked back at George. Maurice's face was set with determination. He always said that when the time came, he would risk his life for the Duchess and Duke, if the need arose. This was one of those times.

Without anymore doubt or hesitation, Maurice tackled the sleeping George and knocked him off the ground. The commotion had the other three men alert and running to where the struggle came from.

When the Duchess saw that all the men were now distracted, she ran for one of the horses and jumped on the saddle. She undid the knot on the reins and kicked her heels at the horse's side. The horse jumped at the movement and took off running in a fast gallop.

The hat on the Duchess' head fell off and landed on the ground behind her. Her wavy blond hair came loose out of its neat bun and cascaded down her back in a long curtain of silver. Her heart sped up at the rush and excitement she felt when she first jumped on the horse. She was eager to get out of harm's way, so eager that she clutched the reins tightly in her fists for support.

She thought about Maurice and the reaction on each of the men's faces when they discovered that she had escaped. She knew they were probably furious, but she didn't care. She had to concentrate on getting out of this forest. Serenity depended on her!

The Duchess heard shouting and cursing behind her. She grew nervous, but didn't look back. She urged the horse to gallop faster, digging her heels at the horse's side to get it to increase speed. They were after her. She just knew it!

The blood was coursing through her veins and her breaths came out short and ragged. She ducked down when they came upon a few high branches that were in her way. Her face was cut and scratched up by sharp branches, and blood dripped down from the side of her cheek. Her clothes were now tattered and torn after snagging onto a few small branches. Her appearance was something that did not concern her. The only thing occupying her mind was getting home to her daughter and having her in her arms again.

She imagined her daughter's smiling face and bright blue eyes with nothing but warm welcomes and sweet embraces.

_Faster_, her mind encouraged her. _Just keep going. You can do it!_

A shot rang out in the forest followed by the horse's panicked cries. A body hit the ground with a sickening thud. Blood formed a small pool around the limp and pale form and stained the ground red. The rise and fall of the chest was unnaturally slow and painful. Gray blue eyes were glassy and filled with tears. The one thought that came to mind before the darkness took over forever was, _I'm sorry, Serenity_.

To be continued...

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Stay tuned for Chapter 1!

Completed August 27, 2003


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